Silent Ghosts
by Angel of Neptune
Summary: The murder of an archeology professor brings forth memories once buried deep. With little evidence to point them in the right direction, Jane and Maura must hurry to find their killer before they strike again. (Canon up to 5x06).
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Silent Ghosts

**Author:** AoN (bellalinguista)

**Word Count: **4,500

**Genre: **Mystery, Angst, Tragedy

**Rating: **PG13

**Summary:** The murder of an archeology professor brings forth memories once buried deep. With little evidence to point them in the right direction, Jane and Maura must hurry to find their killer before they strike again. (Canon up to 5x06).

**Chapter One**

This was not Jane Rizzoli's first standoff against a perp, who was holding an innocent hostage at gunpoint. God damn dirtbag. No, this definitely wasn't her first rodeo and she knew very damn well that no two hostage situations were the same. Jane could not predict what their murderer would do in this situation, even more so while the Boston PD's swat team in a back alley currently surrounded them. Cornered.

She did not know how this person's brain ticked. She did not know how this person would respond one way or another. The one thing that Jane did know was this: that hostage did not deserve any of this and she would be traumatized for the rest of her life probably because of it.

Not that Jane wanted to know how they – murderers, in general – ticked, though she was usually pretty good at figuring that out. No, Jane was a lot more focused on their victims, the people they harmed, or the people they were going to harm – and God help those sons of bitches if those victims, if those people, were innocent.

Like this sweet, young woman – God, Jane could not even bring herself to call her a young adult, even though that was what she was, technically. What Jane saw being held against her will was just a kid. She was a kid who was being held tightly against her captor's body. She was a kid who was reduced to nothing more than a shield – this young, bright girl, who was just starting medical school. She had a life, and she still had so much more to experience out of it, but did that asshole even bother to care?

No. Of course not. There was a complete disregard for her life.

Jane wanted to protect her, even more so now. Every nerve in her body screamed to lower her own gun. If she were to unarm herself, if she were to stop holding him at gunpoint, it may cause their target to do the same in return. At the moment, Jane did not even have an open shot – no one had an open shot, for that matter, at least, not while the girl was so close to their perp.

Even though Jane could rationalize it, they still could not risk it, could they? If they all lowered their weapons, there still was no telling what this manic might do in return. There was no telling if the bait would be bitten. Jane was already aware of what they were capable: there were two dead bodies in Maura's morgue because of this monster and Jane really did not want there to be a third, not if they could avoid it.

"You don't want to do this," Jane stated, firmly, her focus not faltering, not even for a second. "Not after everything. Come on, you know you don't want to hurt her either."

As soon as she had said it, Jane could see it in the perp's face: she had touched a nerve. Jane knew she was right: hurting this poor girl would go against the plan, whatever the hell that was. It would defeat the purpose of the two previous murders. Now they were all about to see if touching a nerve was a good or a bad thing.

The grasp around the young lady loosened before she was pushed away, leaving their guilty murderer wide open, if need be. It was time for them to make their move. The hostage stumbled onto the ground, momentarily placing herself out of harm's way and, hopefully, out of harm's way she would stay. From over Jane's shoulder, although she was standing a few yards away, Jane heard Maura release a heavy sigh of relief.

For a split second, as her opponent's weapon lowered, Jane foolishly believed that it was all over. That things were going to end peacefully. The metaphoric towel was thrown in and for the sake of this young woman and her family, justice would be served.

Jane should have known better.

Things were still far from over.

Just as Jane had heard Maura, so did the perp. With a quick flick of the wrist, the weapon was brought back up, pointed at its new target.

It pointed directly at Maura.

Instinct took over and Jane raised her own weapon once again, but before Jane could comprehend what was going on, a single gunshot rang out from the alley.

**-Twenty Hours Earlier-**

As soon as the elevator doors parted, Professor Richard Williamson stepped out, into the long, overly decorated hallway that was lined with identical doors. Doing his best with only a single hand, he fumbled around his pockets for the keycard that would give him access to his room – the second to last door on the right, he recalled. His other hand was holding his cellphone to his ear.

"Yes, now I can hear you much better, Katherine," Richard replied, still digging through his pockets as he tried to remember if perhaps he put the keycard in his coat pocket instead. "My apologizes, I was in the elevator – no, Victoria isn't with me. We parted ways."

He tilted his head back towards the ceiling and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the bickering he was enduring. Keycard now in hand, pulled from the coat pocket he had guessed it had been, he adjusted his glasses and stopped mid-step, with an expression of disbelief.

"Because she's an adult, Katherine," Richard tried to reason. This wasn't the first time they discussed the matter. "I know, I know – she'll forever be your little girl. No, _our_ little girl, but our little girl is more than capable of taking care of herself now – yes, we had dinner together tonight. She looks good, like any other student starting medical school: slightly overwhelmed, wondering what she's getting herself into. And, yes, this is only a single summer course. Do you think it's too late to convince her to go into archeology instead?" he asked with a slight chuckle, trying to ease the tension.

Richard stated to continue down the hallway again, under the impression that the faster he'd get to his room, the better. "A guest lecturer, actually, not a professor," he corrected. "A medical examiner for the state, I believe. Tori is rather excited about it. She's working rather hard to make a good impression – their first exam is tomorrow morning, from my understanding, which is why we had to cut dinner short. She has to study."

He stopped, again, this time right outside his hotel room's door. "I won't see her again until after the conference, two days from now – my schedule won't allow it," he pointed out. "I suggest calling her yourself to see how the exam went. I can't always be the messenger between the two of you."

It had not always been that way: Richard being the messenger between his ex-wife and their daughter. From the day they brought their baby girl home, when they happily became a family of four from a family of three in New York City at the time, until Victoria entered her pre-teen years, the relationship between mother and daughter had been decent, perhaps even good, Richard would dare to describe. The relationship, however, changed after the divorce. It soured, but it remained well-mannered for the most part.

"Regardless, you should call her, see how she's doing," Richard assured. "I, unfortunately, need to get going. It's getting late and the conference starts early tomorrow morning. I'll call during my layover in Chicago. Uh-huh. Goodnight, Katherine."

He pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call, before tucking it away in his pant pocket, all whilst shaking his head slightly. He did not mind playing mediator between his ex-wife and daughter, but there were times where Richard had to convince himself that Katherine wasn't even a tiny bit jealous of the easy relationship between father and daughter.

It was something the two of them had to work out on their own, Richard told himself. For now, he could not worry about it, not when he was scheduled to be the keynote presenter tomorrow morning. He needed to go over his presentation once more. He had to make some final, last minute edits.

Eyes on the door handle, Richard slid his keycard into the slot and a small flashing green light granted him access to the room. He pushed the heavy door open and took a couple steps inside, already making note of some of the changes he wished to make on the speech he had to delivery in the morning.

Those changes, however, would never be made.

As Richard looked up, he could barely process the scene that quickly unfolded in front of him. A person, unbeknownst to him, stood across the room, arm extended. Before Richard could register what was in the intruder's hand, pain erupted from his chest. The force caused him to fall backwards.

As he lay motionless in a steadily growing pool of his own blood, Richard would never register that he had been shot – not only once, but twice, in the chest. He would never know why he was murdered. Why someone would want some archeology professor from San Francisco dead.

And as he continued to lay motionless, his now lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling, glasses skewed on his face, Richard would also never know about the second murder. Nor would he be able to apologize for the innocent hotel worker who was just trying to deliver the extra towels Richard had requested from the lobby before heading to his room.

But, most importantly, Richard would never know if Victoria was safe from his murderer.

**xxxx**

The string quartet emerging from Maura's phone started playing softly before steadily growing stronger and louder, bouncing off the walls of her master bathroom and reminding her of the fantastic acoustics the room possessed. The warm steam that generated from the hot bath fogged the mirror, carrying with it the aroma of lavender flowers and sweet vanilla. Lavender, Maura had chosen, due to the number of scientific studies which have reported the benefits of lavender in various different conditions, such as anxiety and stress, for example. Vanilla, well, it seemed like a good scent to compliment that of the lavender flower.

With a heavy sigh, Maura leaned her head back to rest against the edge of the bathtub, feeling her tensed muscles beginning to relax in the water. She allowed herself to momentarily be carried away by the string instruments that were playing together in near perfect harmony. She inhaled the fragrances deeply, until they both became all too familiar and seemed to fade away – sensory adaption at work.

Usually, during such bathes, Maura kept a case folder within her arm's reach, to look over and see what exactly she was missing in whatever case she had been happening to be working on, to see what bit of information was hidden, ready to finally be discovered in order to break the case. This, however, was not one of those bathes. Surprisingly enough, she actually did not have any open cases, or any trials for which she had to prepare, for that matter. It was as though all the criminals of Boston decided to take a holiday, which was highly improbable. There was no scientific evidence to explain the lack of events: this was all just coincidental – and very welcoming at that.

Normally, it was work that kept Maura's mind busy and buzzing. Lately, it had been another matter completely: Jane. Well, more accurately, Jane's pregnancy and their recent conversation they had while appreciating Maura's latest purchase and enjoying Sidecars. She had tried to mask the heaviness of the situation with a laugh, especially after the actual sidecar came off its hinges, and she had even tried to momentarily escape from the conversation by offering to make another virgin Sidecar.

After the baby's arrival, if something were to happen to Jane, Maura agreed she would take care of this child. That it would be her honor. It was expected of her, was it not? Given their relationship – their friendship... What else could she have said? No? That she was not at all fit to be a mother? Because she was not and she did not even know where to begin to prove that fact to Jane. Maura knew the science behind raising a child, but could one learn to be maternal? Maura could handle the idea of being a part of Jane's village – being there to help Jane raise the child, but the idea of Maura doing it by herself? Doing it without Jane?

The idea was terrifying.

Maura closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, reminding herself that the lavender helps with anxiety and reduces stress, which she felt both begin to creep about, unwanted. This was the problem with having even the slightest bit of free time: Maura's mind got the chance to slow down and think about other things instead of focusing on a case or acquiring an array of knowledge. She liked educating herself about various subjects - it kept her busy. It kept her mind busy.

It kept her mind from thinking how much of a terrible mother she would be if that opportunity arose.

Well, no, it would not be an opportunity at all. The word implied a sense of appropriate or favorable time or occasion. In reality, it would be a tragedy that would bring motherhood into Maura's life. It would have meant Jane's death and that was something she would never be ready to accept - both motherhood and Jane's death.

It was a far cry from an opportunity.

But it would be something she had to do, an obligation. Jane trusted Maura with the life of her child. Jane was under the impression that her child would be in good hands. Maura had not been able to convince her otherwise and she probably never would be able to: Jane was set in her ways, in her beliefs. And Jane believed in Maura.

This was not set in stone, Maura tried to point out to herself. For now, it was nothing more than a hypothetical situation and it possibly could remain to be a hypothetical situation – it may never become a reality.

Maura hoped that it never would be either. She did not know if she would be able to handle a reality where Jane was no longer a part of her life.

No, Maura needed Jane.

She needed Jane in her life because, well... Because Maura loved Jane. She loved her and Maura didn't know how to go about it. How could she confess something so personal? What if it only pushed Jane away? Maura wouldn't be able to handle that either. Jane was the only person in her life Maura felt she could easily be herself around - most of herself. She still couldn't openly be the person who loved Jane with all her heart. Maura was afraid to be that person.

Instead, Maura pretended to be someone else. She pretended to be this person falling in love with the instructor who teaches in the same lecture hall as she, right before her own class. This in hopes that maybe Maura could trick herself into thinking and believing that it was real. Then she wouldn't have to risk Jane being pushed away by a confession that would then, at that point, be entirely false.

But could it really ever be false? Or would she just continuously be lying to herself in an attempt to protect herself from potentially getting hurt?

She exhaled the breath she had been holding, hoping for her muscles to relax once again, but the tension had returned, unfortunately, worse than before. Maura could not even get lost in the musical notes and she was rather fond of the composer and his overall work. Perhaps she could deem this bath a failure and go on to teach herself Italian - Angela would love to have someone to practice with and Maura had always wanted to learn, ever since her boarding school days in France. It would not be too difficult, not with her French comprehension to guide her.

Oh, but that would mean a waste in all this water. She should at least pretend to enjoy it, even though there was no one else in the house to make her feel guilty about it. Bass was not one to complain.

She decided that she would lay here for another few minutes and then get out in order to search the internet for a decent beginner's Italian book.

The melody of the music grew softer and then quickly faded out, only to be replaced by a refrain chanting _bad boys, bad boys, watch gonna do? Watcha gonna do when they come for you?_

Eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as her nose wrinkled in slight repugnance, Maura sat up a little bit straighter in the tub, frowning. She leaned over the edge to look at the screen of her telephone – the music player had disappeared, replaced by the flashing words of 'Incoming Call.'

_Watcha gonna do, watcha gonna do_, the chorus repeated.

Someone, without her permission, had changed the ringtone of her phone.

She didn't have to guess who the culprit was, either – not that Maura made it a habit to guess anything, for that matter.

Leaning over the edge of the bathtub, Maura reached out for a towel to quickly dry her hands. She then picked up the cellphone before the chorus could repeat for a third time.

"This is Dr. Isles," Maura answered.

**xxxx**

Jane paced back and forth in front of the entrance to the lobby of the hotel that was now their crime scene – the fifth floor of the hotel to be more exact. She had not gone up yet – Frankie went on ahead without her. Instead, Jane had decided to wait outside, but she found herself growing more and more antsy. It could not possibly take this long to get here from Maura's house, right? Nor was there a lot of traffic for a 11pm on a Thursday night. What had Maura been doing before she got the call anyway? Jane's nose wrinkled slightly at the potential answers that were now whirling around her mind. Maybe it was best to stop thinking about it entirely.

Placing her hands on her hips, Jane turned around on her heel and – well, speak of the devil! Jane's hands quickly went up to her mouth in an attempt to hide Jane's now wide smile. As Maura approached her, Jane instantly recognized that glaring expression. It was one she had seen many times growing up, mostly from annoyed Catholic nuns and her own mother. Jane landed herself in a spot of trouble and it was usually worth it.

Jane watched Maura look down and dig through her purse; she knew what Maura was looking for. Her assumption was immediately confirmed when Maura pulled out her phone. Jane struggled to keep a straight face. Maura stopped in front of her and held up her phone, eyebrows raised.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" Maura questioned, shaking her head slightly. It was as though she was scolding a small child.

"No, I don't think, Dr. Isles. I _know_," Jane corrected, standing her ground firmly, but her tough exterior was fast to break. "So? Do you like?"

"Do I like the fact that my phone now plays _Bad Boys_ whenever someone decides to call me?" Maura clarified.

"Oh," Jane mumbled, standing up a bit straighter. Frowning, she pointed at the phone. "Really? Is _that_ what you're into these days?"

"Jane.." Maura warned.

"You should hear what it plays when Jack calls," Jane said with a smirk.

Maura looked to her phone again and then back to Jane. "What will it play?" she asked.

"You're gonna have to find out," Jane replied before turning to the entrance of the hotel. "Come on, we got a crime scene to check out," she added, starting to walk.

As Maura's heels clicked with each step, Jane knew she was following, until they reached the carpet, at least. At that point, however, Jane overheard a disgruntled gasp, confirming that she was still behind Jane and that she now knew what Jack's ringtone was.

"You changed his ringtone to that?" Maura questioned. "Well, that's _not_ classy!" she protested.

Once Jane reached the elevator, she hit the call button and glanced over her shoulder. "Good thing I wasn't trying to be," she replied. "Seriously, Maur, you've had that phone for months now – you gotta personalize it a little bit!"

"I have!" Maura showed her the main menu. "My wallpaper is Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. That doesn't come standard with the phone," she pointed out.

A loud ding indicated that the elevator had arrived.

"Nor should it ever be," Jane murmured under her breathe as the elevator doors opened.

"What was that?" Maura asked, stepping in after Jane.

"Nothing," Jane replied innocently, pushing the button that would take them to the fifth floor.

"How did you even manage to get those songs on there?" Maura questioned, putting her phone back in her purse. "They don't come in the standard settings."

"They sure as hell don't," Jane said, biting back a grin. "Let that be a lesson to you – leaving your credit card information in there."

"You used my credit card?"

Jane kept her eyes down, aware of the glare that Maura was probably giving her at the moment. "…Our next trip to Boston Joe's is on me."

"You can't have caffeine-"

"I can every once in a while," Jane now protested. "And it's been a while."

The elevator came to a stop on the fifth floor. The doors opened and Jane followed Maura out into the hallway. "Besides, you should be thanking me – your ringtone is not boring anymore!"

"It certainly wasn't boring before," Maura argued.

"It's the only classical option it came with," Jane pointed out.

"That doesn't make it boring," Maura responded, looking over her shoulder.

"Of course not – it went very well with your Venetian man," Jane retorted, slowing down aas they reached the portion of the hallway that was now being blocked off. The officer on duty raised the police tape, just after both Jane and Maura flashed their bdages. Jane stood over the motionless corpus in the doorway. "So, what do we got?"

Gloves already pulled on her hands, Maura knelt down to examine the body.

"Double homicide!" Frankie's voice called out from the room itself.

With her hands on her hips, Jane frowned and leaned through the door frame. "Tell us something we don't know, Frankie."

Jane watched as her baby brother rose to his feet. He had been examining the other body, or judging by the wallet in his hand, Frankie had been trying to figure out who their other victim was. Frankie lingered a couple of feet away from the room's entrance, not wanting to disturb their first body.

"You could try saying please, y'know."

"Frankie, it's late."

She was met with silence.

"And Maura has an exam to give in the morning," Jane added.

"I don't mind waiting," Maura spoke up.

Frankie raised his eyebrows, waiting for Jane to comply.

"Oh, _fine_," Jane grumbled. "_Please_."

He pointed to the body near Jane's feet, the one that currently had Maura's attention. "So, we have a hotel worker – his name's Jackson Smith. According to the front desk, he was coming up here to drop off some extra towels and a pillow for the guy we have inside."

"And who's he? …_Please_."

"The manager says their guest is Richard Williamson," Frankie answered. "The driver's license in his wallet confirms it, too. He was, uh, visiting from San Francisco. We also found a university ID. He was an archeology professor-"

"In San Francisco?" Jane asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "What's he doing all the way here in Boston?"

"Most academics visit other insitutions to present on their current, past, or future work," Maura spoke up, standing. "BCU is hosting an archeology conference this weekend. It starts tomorrow morning. It was on their newsletter a couple months ago. I wanted to attend after my office hours tomorrow, but it seems I'll have to pass to get a start on the autopsies."

"Or," Frankie said. "You can do those poor students a favor and cancel the exam altogether."

"What example would I be setting if I did just that?" Maura asked, stepping around Jane and carefully through the doorway. "I knew this type of situation could arise and in such an event, I'd have to fulfill both jobs to the absolute fullest – so, the exam is still scheduled for tomorrow morning."

Jane watched Maura approach the second body and then she looked back over at Frankie. "Okay, then, so we have a professor here on university business, probably," she stated. "Are we sure that's all he's here for? Did he check into this place alone?"

"According to the front desk, no," Frankie replied. "He's supposed to be here with a Victoria Williamson."

"Wife?"

"Not sure," Frankie answered honestly. "It's a double queen room, though. Trouble in paradise maybe?"

"Where is she anyway? This Victoria Williamson?"

Frankie shrugged his shoulders. "Front desk says Professor Williamson came back from dinner, alone, and he was very chummy on the phone – maybe a mistress?"

"And you're thinking the wife found out?" Jane finished for him. "Is there any security footage?"

He nodded in response. "We're taking it back to headquarters to review," he said. "Only two keycards were issued to this room, Janie. One to our deceased professor here and the other, well, I'll let you guess."

Before Jane could respond, their conversation – their pure speculation - was interrupted by a high-pitched wail, causing both Rizzolis to turn to look down the hallway that should have been empty. Frowning, Jane took a step forward, watching the officer on duty trying to keep a frantic, young woman from crossing the police tape and into their crime scene.

"Mrs. Williamson, I presume," Jane heard Frankie murmur from over her shoulder.

But then the young woman started crying out for her father. Jane's shoulders fell slightly as she shook her head. "Christ, she's the daughter," she whispered to herself. "We can't let her see him, not like this," she said. Feeling a hand on her forearm, Jane turned to see Maura at her side. Jane had not even heard her approach.

"Jane, that's one of my students," Maura pointed out. "Victoria Daniels."

_**To Be Continued**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Silent Ghosts

**Author:** AoN (bellalinguista)

**Word Count: **3,700

**Genre: **Mystery, Angst, Tragedy

**Rating: **PG13

**Summary:** The murder of an archeology professor brings forth memories once buried deep. With little evidence to point them in the right direction, Jane and Maura must hurry to find their killer before they strike again. (Canon up to 5x06).

**Chapter Two**

**-22 Years Ago –**

Breathe.

Just… Just breathe.

It will all be over soon.

"…seven, eight, nine, ten," she murmured quietly to herself. The pain subsided, but only slightly. She still felt uncomfortable and completely aware that the pain would only soon return. The relief was only temporary and when the pain would return, it could possibly be worse.

Possibly.

Eventually, it would be.

But everything would soon pass, she reminded herself, trying to drown out the sounds of the rapid fetal heart rate that was being tracked on the monitor to her left.

It was an impossible task.

Everything would pass, she repeated.

As soon as it arrived… As soon as the baby arrived, she would be able to go back to her normal life. The baby would be adopted to what she could only assume would be a nice family and she would go back to school and pretend this whole ordeal never happened to begin with. She couldn't be a mother. She wasn't ready to be one, either. She was only sixteen.

She was still only a child herself.

"Ah!" she gasped as another contraction hit. Once more, she closed her eyes, silently repeating her simple mantra to herself: Breathe. Just breathe. It will all be over soon.

"One," she began to count again. "Two, three, four..."

She stifled a whimper. Her eyes fluttered opening to scan the still empty hospital room. There was no one here to comfort her, to help guide her through, or to tell her that everything would be alright. Even though she didn't want to, she had to do this alone.

"...f-five," she murmured, but this time the counting did not help. It did not distract her, but she continued regardless.

"Six, seven, eight, nine, ten."

**xxxx**

**Present Day - Boston Police Department**

Hand covering her mouth, Maura silently watched from behind the two way mirror as Jane and Vince sat across the table from their suspect in the interrogation room. With furrowed eyebrows, Maura continued to watch. Through their questions, Maura learned more and more about her student's personal life, privileged information that never came up during their lectures or office hours.

Why didn't, for example, the name she gave them match the hotel's records?

Oh, because she wasn't registered under her full name: Victoria Daniels-Williamson - her last name became hyphenated after her parents' divorce during middle school. She normally just went by Daniels since Daniels-Williamson would normally run off the allotted space given to surnames.

Maura caught herself wondering if this was the case with her own class roster. Suddenly, she couldn't recall.

After pointing out the California license that Victoria had presented to them, Jane asked why she was in Boston and Maura found herself nodding along to Victoria's answer: she was taking a summer class at BCU with Dr. Isles. This was all information that they already knew, but had to ask regardless. They needed it on record.

What Maura didn't know, however, was that she was trying to get a head start in medical school, so things wouldn't be so intense when she moved the rest of her belongings from Chicago before the fall semester.

Taking a single class over the summer wouldn't make things that much easier, Maura thought. At least, that is what she concluded from her own experience in med school. She was glad those times were behind her. She didn't mind the constant studying and the constant exams. No, Maura actually enjoyed learning. There was one component to her schooling that she was glad to put behind her: dealing with the living. Working with the dead was a lot quieter.

And the dead were less judgmental.

"Chicago's not exactly in California," Vince pointed out, causing Victoria to explain that her mother resided in the Windy City. She and her older brother normally spent their time between San Francisco and Chicago, where her mother still was at this very moment. Her mother ran a hospital downtown which didn't allow her much time off. It was one of the things her mother and father would bicker about.

So the summer course accounted for Victoria being in Boston, but what about her father?

He was in town for the archeology conference at BCU, the one Maura had mentioned earlier in the evening at the crime scene, but, once again, they needed this information on record. The professor had reserved a hotel room for both him and his daughter so Victoria could escape dorm life for a couple nights, but Victoria found it quieter to study on campus. Archeology professors, apparently, were a rowdy bunch.

As were medical examiners. Maura still grimaced at the memory of the aftermath of the pre-conference party she hosted in her own hotel room only a couple weeks ago. She had tried her hardest to make the room a bit more presentable, but Maura made sure to tip the house service well.

But would they be rowdy enough to harm a fellow professor? No…? No, Victoria's father got along with nearly everyone he met, but Maura couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there was an untold tale of a paper, research, or an article being scooped from under someone's nose. To have years of hard work taken from you - that certainly could have been a motive.

Maura's gaze hardly left Victoria. With each question, Maura saw her usually confident student sink more and more into her seat. The tears that had started at the crime scene, it seemed, came to a stop. Victoria was in shock - did she realize why they were questioning her?

"Are you sure you can't think of anyone at all who would want to hurt your father?" Vince asked once more, for calcification.

Victoria shook her head.

"Listen, Victoria, I know this is going to be difficult," Jane began. "But can you tell us where you were tonight? What you were doing this evening?"

With bated breath, Maura waited for an answer - perhaps it wasn't even an answer she was waiting for, but just a reaction. She was waiting for something that would show that the moment of clarity had finally arrived. There was no more beating around the bush, so to speak.

This was confirmation: all three of them now knew for certain why they were in the Boston Police Department. They knew why they were here in the middle of the night, in this cold interrogation room.

How did Jane do this time and time again? How did she sit across from a complete stranger, asking them questions in relation to a terrible crime? While emotions would run high, Jane would, normally, remain calm - stoic, even, just as she was now.

Maybe the question Maura really should have been asking was one that frequently crossed her mind: how do people deal with the living? How do they do it? How does one deal with judgmental glares, teasing, or ghastly expressions of pure dread, or even horror?

Maura knew horror. Maura was well acquainted with horror, as was Jane. They were not strangers to grotesque crime scenes. They had frequently seen the inner-workings of serial killers. They had had their lives threatened more than what they would have liked as well.

The young woman sitting in front of them - did she have these inner-workings too?

For a moment, Victoria sat in silence. "I, uh, I went out to dinner with my father," she managed to answer. "Downtown at Les Zygomates. He wanted to get away from everything to do with the conference for a little while."

"And after dinner?" Vince pressed.

"W-we went different ways," Victoria stuttered. "I went to the library back at BCU to study some more for Dr. Isles' exam. He insisted I shouldn't, that I was prepared enough, but.. but this is my first class of my med school career. I have - I want to do well."

Jane nodded along slowly as Vince took quick notes on his pad. Maura watched as Jane, who became even more stoic (if possible), sat up a little straighter in her seat. "Can anyone confirm that you were in the library tonight?" she asked.

Maura felt herself pull back slightly at the question she had been dreading. Tension was returning to her neck. All of this evening's efforts to relax had been for naught and she could only foresee another bath being nothing but futile.

"The keycard registered to you was used to access the hotel room, ten minutes before your father was shot," Vince pointed out.

Maura couldn't watch any longer. She stepped away from the mirror, but it was not enough to distance herself from the situation. She made her way out to the empty hallway, lingering for a moment. Maura soon realized if she stayed, she would bare witness to a scene she had watched time and time again, but now, it was different.

Maura knew their suspect.

It was not a serial killer, obsessed with seeking revenge against her best was it her mob boss of a biological father. Maura never believed she had demonized these suspects before - she prided herself on letting science shape and form her opinions, but this time…

This time, the suspect was someone who sat front row of all of Maura's lectures. It was someone who engaged in discussion, and who frequently attended office hours. Victoria was a brilliant, kinda student.

But even brilliant, kind people are capable of murder, a voice from the back of Maura's mind pointed out.

Maura retreated to the homicide unit's offices. The entire floor was empty. It was late, well after operating hours. This is where, Maura decided, she would wait for Jane to come find her.

It was early in the investigation, Maura reminded herself. There were different angles they needed to look into. The case could not simply be open and close, but…

But what if it was and Maura was refusing to see otherwise?

"Maur?"

Turning around, Maura found Jane lingering in the doorway. As Jane took a step forward, Maura cast her gaze to the ground.

"They're taking her to-"

"Jane, I can't work this case," Maura started, looking up at her. "I have a personal connection and I can't approach it with a-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up!" Jane interrupted, walking over to Maura who was standing in the middle of the office. Jane reached out and placed her hands on Maura's shoulders. "She's here until we get a judge to sign off on a warrant to review the security footage. That's gonna be tomorrow morning."

"You don't believe she did it?"

"Doesn't matter what I believe," Jane replied. "I gotta follow protocol. The evidence, right now, is pointing a certain way, but… I think that's all gonna change in the morning. Besides, do you really want Dr. Pike to be working this one?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Although they both knew Jane's tone was conveying that of a jokester, the reality of the matter was that no, it was definitely something they did not want, by any means.

Maura nodded. "But I don't like the idea of her being..." her voice trailed off. "She's a good student and I know that doesn't attest to anything since many criminals were good students -"

"And many more good students are not criminals," Jane pointed out. "I know what you're doing, Maur."

"And what exactly is it that I'm doing?"

"I think," Jane began, moving her hands from Maura's shoulders to her own hips. "That Dr. Isles is trying really hard not to go with her gut."

"I can't allow-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know," Jane interrupted. "Dr. Isles also can't listen to said gut."

Maura nodded in accordance.

Jane lowered her hands and took a step back. She fetched her wallet which she had tucked away in her desk drawer for safe keeping. "Just do what you do best, Maur," she said. "We'll find whoever did this-"

"So you don't believe she did it," Maura pressed again. "At least, your gut doesn't believe she did."

"Well, my gut's been a lil queasy recently," Jane pointed out. "Nothing to do with the case-"

"Hormones-"

"Yes, as you and your textbook brain keep telling me."

Maura forced a small, meek smile.

"I didn't mean to snap," Jane quickly apologized. Her voice then began to whine. "It's late and I was already in sweatpants, lounging on the couch and watching the game when I got the call. Now I just want to go to bed."

"As do I, Jane. That stress relief bath was all for nothing. It's rather upsetting."

"Maybe you should take another," Jane suggested. "You know, since you're tense and everything."

"Maybe," Maura repeated as she slung her purse onto her shoulder, but her mind was already made up. "Regardless, I won't be able to sleep and I have an exam to give in the morning… She's a good student - a good person," Maura said after a pause. It didn't matter how many times she repeated it; the situation was not going to change. "She takes part in discussion - really bright - and comes to office hours, not just for course work, but for professional advice-"

"We're gonna figure this out, Maur, don't worry," Jane reassured. "But listen, for now, it's late and we can't do anything. We gotta at least try to get some sleep."

**xxxx**

To the average Bostonian, it was a perfect night: not a cloud in the evening sky, accompanied by a gentle breeze - a rare occurrence for their Cradle of Liberty. What a posh and absolutely absurd nickname for a city. Cradle of Liberty. Of Modern America.

Beantown was not any better.

Whatever the case, not everyone on this evening was a Bostonian. Some found this evening, as quiet and calm as it was, to be rather nippy - even more so if some were sitting in deafening silence in a parked rental car in the underground parking garage of the Boston police department. Others would probably agree: sitting in a parked rental car in the underground parking garage of a force some were trying to avoid was not a brilliant idea.

But things had not gone as they should on this quiet and calm night and now some had loose ends to take care of, regardless how reckless actions could be considered. If not, the desired outcome may be unobtainable.

The rumbling of a car engine disrupted the silence of the night, indicating it was not the wanted target. A moment later, the car came up the ramp on its way out of the garage. Its visual confirmed that it was not the one, so the wait would continue.

The awaited car soon approached, not making a sound, as most hybrids don't. After it passed, the headlights of some other vehicle, along with the engine, came to life before pulling out of the spot in order to follow.

**xxxx**

It had taken Maura a good few minutes to start up her car and pull out of the parking garage of the police department - yet the bluetooth connection was still loading, preventing her from listening to her latest podcast subscription. She had planned it as her attempt to distract herself while driving back home.

Although it was not what she had expected, it was taking Maura's mind off of things. Was the issue with her phone or the Prius itself? Would she have to inform the dealership and her cellphone company? Maybe both? Perhaps it was a wireless issue and she should try to connect her phone through the USB port. Maura would have to try before her morning commute.

For now, Maura would have to rely on the FM radio. Reaching a red light, Maura looked down at the touch screen and pressured the source bottom in the upper right corner before selecting the FM option. Instead of the usual classic station she normally listened to, Maura was surprised by loud, heavy rock, causing her to jump up in the driver's seat. Heart racing, Maura quickly turned down the volume and changed the radio station, making a mental note to discuss Jane's musical tastes later.

Eyes back on the road, Maura nearly jumped again. How long had the light been green? She looked into her rearview mirror, discovering that there was another car waiting behind her.

"Oh, shoot," Maura mumbled under her breath, but as she glanced back to the light, it turned yellow. Frowning, Maura quickly took a left turn, as did the vehicle behind her. Maura expected the vehicle to switch lanes and make a spectacle in passing her up, but the vehicle never did. It remained coasting behind Maura - so unlike Bostonian drivers. Maybe she should have more faith in her fellow drivers, but…

But this felt odd.

Instead of letting it be, Maura decided to test out her theory. She switched lanes and then checked her mirror - the vehicle didn't switch lanes. Okay. Fine.

She sighed and returned her attention to the road, but the nagging feeling had not disappeared. There was a tug to check once again - just to double check, just to make sure that Maura was being silly. It was just one more glance to confirm that the car was gone.

Just one more glance to-

The vehicle was still there.

Still frowning, Maura tried to convince herself that this was all in her head. Without reaching for her turn signal, Maura took a quick right, as did the vehicle behind her. No, still a coincidence - nothing more. All she had to do was take the next left to get back to the main road and-

No, still there.

Okay, alright. Everything was still fine.

Maura needed to take one more left. In one more left, Maura would have driven in a circle with whoever tailing her. Maura pushed the call button on her steering wheel, but she was met with a female robotic voice claiming that the option was not available. The bluetooth still was not working.

"Shit!" Maura hissed, grabbing her phone from the cup holder.

Fumbling, Maura dialed Jane's number and brought the phone to her ear. Jane picked up after a couple rings and Maura quickly cut her off before she could start whining. "Jane, I'm being followed," she stated.

"What?"

"I'm being followed," Maura repeated. "I noticed about a block away from the precinct-"

"Maura, are you sure?"

"Yes, Jane, I'm sure," she replied calmly.

"What type of car?" Jane asked.

Maura glanced into her rearview mirror again. "Silver mercedes."

"Mercedes?"

"Yes, that's what I said. I can't make out the front plates - it's too far away," Maura informed. "Jane, what if it's one of Paddy's men?"

"We're gonna make sure they leave you the hell alone," Jane replied. "Gimme a second, Maur."

For a few moments, Maura heard Jane's muffled voice as she spoke into her radio. Although Maura could not hear what was going on precisely, she knew what Jane was doing.

"Okay," Jane returned to the phonecall. "There'll be a uniform waiting for you in front of the precinct. Hopefully, that'll be enough to spook our little Mercedes buddy. I'm on my way too. Stay on the line, alright?"

"Alright," Maura said. "But what if it doesn't spook them?"

"Then, you keep driving, Maura."

It was not the best idea, but it was better than nothing at all. Maura made her way back to the police department, answerings Jane's simple questions: was it still there? How about now? Was it still following her? Did it suspect anything?

Maura answered each question, complying with Jane who was just doing her job. She was also being a concerned friend.

"I'm parked outside with the unit," Jane informed.

"You already made it back?" Maura questioned. "How fast were you going? Studies say-"

"You can tell me all about those studies later," Jane interrupted. "Right now, I wanna make sure you're safe."

Make sure you're safe, Maura's mind echoed back to her. That was Jane being Jane. Being the protector - her protector. Maura's. Jane once confessed that she would never leave Maura behind. Maura had been unconscious during the confession, but Vince told her about it later. That was when Maura silently promised to never leave Jane either.

Of course, it had been silent. When it came to discussing her own feelings, especially in relation to Jane, Maura struggled to find the right words. Or the right occasion. For instance: this was not the right occasion.

"How far out are you?" Jane asked.

"I'm about a minute out - less than that," Maura corrected. "I'm approaching the final turn - you should see my headlights."

"Yeah, Maur, I see them," Jane reassured. "Was this car directly behind you?"

"Yes," Maura answered, glancing up at the rear view mirror after she took the turn. There were no lights. No one was following her. "Jane?"

"Listen, you go after them alright?" Maura overheard Jane instruct before speaking to her again. "You're clear, Maura."

Before Maura could thank her, Jane had ended the call and the patrol unit drove by, silently flashing its lights. As Maura pulled up to the curb, Jane made her way to the driver's side. Maura unbuckled and pulled herself out of the car. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Maura met Jane's concern expression.

"You alright?"

Maura nodded.

"Good," Jane nodded in unison. "We saw the car matching your description go straight as you turned - probably realized what was going on. You have reason to believe that its Paddy?"

"Considering I'm his only biological daughter," Maura began. "Everything suspicious may be linked to Paddy Doyle, whether I want it to be or not."

"Unfortunately," Jane grumbled. "But you're alright?"

"You've already asked me that," Maura pointed out.

"Guess you got me there," Jane murmured before clearing her throat. "So, uh, I'll escort you home, okay?"

Maura nodded and spoke up after a short moment. "Will you stay with me?"

Without skipping a beat, Jane replied, "Yeah, of course."

One thing was certain: Maura's mind was definitely distracted now.

**To Be Continued**


End file.
